Leaves of Lórien
by nosmaeth
Summary: The story of Celebrían and Elrond, the story of leaving these shores and sailing to the west. But in truth, the title is the best summary I can give.


**It contains many references from Elrond's life and family, including his father, mother, brother and children. If you are not familiar with his life-story some things might be hard to understand, but it would be too long to tell the tale here. If you are interested I'll gladly give you any information. Special thanks for my lovely beta reader, jjjanimefan1. Your help is really appreciated! :)**

**The Leaves of Lórien**

How easily he let her go, how carelessly. He could not even bring himself to say that he suspected, that some form of foresight warned him, for it did not. But when it happened, he sensed all her pain, growing with every passing moment until they found her. Arwen begged him then to stay with her, not to join the search, with teary eyes she told him that she could not bear to lose all of them at once, but he couldn't stay.  
Not when she was in pain, not when she needed him. But it was not him, rather his sons who found her.  
How he hoped during the years of Watchful Peace that his children would never face such horrors, would never feel such pain, the pain he knew all too well. That hope was foolish and in vain. But Elrohir and Elladan did what they had to do, slaughtered the orcs and rescued their mother. They brought her back in their arms.

How his soul broke when he saw her, covered with blood, wounded, tortured. But he did not waste time mourning, he broke into action. Never swifter did he ride home; never in greater hurry were the herbs prepared. But neither his speed nor the blessed scent of Athelas leaves helped much.  
Not that they didn't cure. They did. Her wounds healed, the scars disappeared. Arwen stayed with him all the time, helping with any task she could. Not the twins though. He could not remember seeing them since they brought her back. A faint tremor of anger passed through his numb soul, but it left as quickly as it came. He did not have the time or the strength to deal with his sons' nonchalance, hurtful though it was.

How he wished she would come back, for his sake, for their children's sake. But she was fading, her soul was fading and he felt that he was fading with her. Day by day he weakened, but he would not leave her side. He would make her eat and drink and breathe. He would beg for every single one of her heartbeats to come. He would sing and laugh for her sake, just to see a faint echo of his smile in her lovely blue eyes, but inside they were both breaking and even his own heart struggled now with every beat.

'You must let her go, Ada! She only stays for you'  
It might have been a month, two months, fifty years, he could not tell. The twins stood by his side for the first time in an age it seemed, as he lingered by the window, watching Celebrían. She sat outside, on the small white bench of her lovely garden. The trees were in flower, the birds sung cheerfully around her, but she was pale against the colors of nature. Beautiful but pale, like a withering rose.  
He did not answer.  
'Let the white ships carry her; let the Blessed Realm heal her. Her wounds cannot be cured by you. They cannot be cured by anyone on these shores'  
'How would you know?' His voice was sharp as a blade 'It is not as if you cared for your mother. Where were you when I healed her wounds, where were you when I fought with all I had to keep her alive? Do not tell me now, what I must or must not do!'  
He turned to face them angrily, all his pain suddenly breaking out, like wild waters of mountains rushing through their dam.  
'What would you know of what I can or cannot do? What would you know of her needs?'  
But the twins stood there like marble sculptures. Their gray eyes dark with fathomless emotions, they stood and faced him, faced his anger like never before.  
'Let her go, Ada' They said once more, quietly.  
'They are right, my love'  
She came back inside and stood at the doorstep gripping the frame with her long white fingers to steady herself. How weak she looked, how fragile! Where was the strong light of silver she once held in her eyes, where was her powerful bearing? Always she looked exactly what she was, daughter of King, gift of crown, shining brightly like the silver leaves of mallorn trees.  
Where was her strong soul, where did her light go?  
He hurried to her, grabbing her cold hands, taking them into his own, to warm them up, to touch them, to feel them. If he could manage it, he would have breathed his own soul into her by now, just to have her shining once more.  
'Hebin í gúr lín, ú-chebin gúr lín aním!'* She said gently.  
'Baw! Avo vano!'** He whispered, shaking his head in powerless denial.  
'There is nothing left for me here, but your heart. And if I fade from this world, if I go to Mandos, I shall take it with me, I know, for we are one. Do not make me cause more pain, meleth! I would not have you suffer any longer for me!'  
Some of her earlier strength rang in her voice, but it was distant like the echo of evening bells fading into the dusk.  
He did not reply, only closed his arms around her fragile frame and buried his face in her hair. However well he knew the truth of her words, they still hurt. And though she wished for it not to happen, she was already taking his heart, breaking it to pieces.  
'Hush love!' She chided gently, stroking his back. 'You will see me; you will meet me again, ere the birth of our grandchild.'

Círdan was there, bidding her farewell, watching with him, as the ship passed into the glowing red sun.  
He stood like this so many times. When he watched his father leave, he stood like this, grabbing his mother's hands. When he first understood that his mother had also gone from these shores, he stood like this. When he learned the fate of Maglor, he stood like this. When he bid his brother goodbye, for the last time, until the world's end, he stood like this.  
How much more pain was he to endure, how many times was he to stay here yet, staring into the redness of Anor as she dived into the distant seas?  
'Do not despair, friend.' The Shipwright had seen the Ages pass by and had known him since his youth. His wise eyes saw many things that were yet hidden from others, but his words were of little comfort now.  
'Or do you not know what they say?' He smiled gently at him, placing one arm on his shoulders.  
'No idly do the leaves of Lórien fall' And he left, for he knew, the tears coming were not meant for anyone to witness.

The world changed, the air changed. A New Age had begun that was to go on without them, the Age of Men. He was weary of these shores, weary of Middle Earth. And yet he would not bear to leave, if not for his heart that waited for him in the West. He would not have the strength to leave his children and Estel, the only ones he still had for himself in those empty years.  
But even though his departure was shadowed with a farewell that stood until the end of the world, his heart was glad. And when all of them were on board, waiting now only for him, he turned to the ancient master of ships.  
'Only now do I see your wisdom, friend. Because if not for that fallen leaf of Lórien, my heart would break with leaving these shores. Namarie!'  
'Namarie, Peredhel. Your soul shall mend now in the West!'

*I _keep your heart, I keep it not for myself... (I would not trust my skills in Sindarin however.)_

_**Don't do it! Don't go! (for this, credit goes to a wonderful Hungarian site: Parf-en-Ereglass)_


End file.
